


You're Burning Up

by elliotwritesgarbage



Series: sickfics [9]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Emetophilia, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Sickfic, Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-02
Updated: 2019-03-02
Packaged: 2019-11-08 03:47:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,018
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17973863
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elliotwritesgarbage/pseuds/elliotwritesgarbage
Summary: Tumblr ask:Pidge puking hardcore with shiro and/or Keith caring for her, please? <33





	You're Burning Up

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted to Tumblr April 2017.
> 
> (Original notes)  
> It is an honour and a privilege to provide you with this Crybaby. Hope it lives up to your wildest expectations.

If Pidge was anyone else, and Shiro was anyone else, she was sure he would have begun swearing as soon as he heard her retching over the intercom. She didn’t end up puking right then, but it sure felt like she was going to. Flying had never been a problem for her, but she hadn’t been feeling quite right all day, and the flight drills weren’t exactly helping her sensitive stomach.

The flight drills weren’t helping her anything to be honest. The seatbelt dug into her skin, which was prickling with heat and sore to the touch. The act of simply pressing buttons, flipping switches and manipulating joysticks was enough to tire her arms out after about three minutes. Having to dart her eyes around to check everything was going smoothly had built an enormous pressure behind them, one that she was sure was going to make her head burst.

All of this wasn’t even mentioning her stomach. Having to fly in a strict formation with four other paladins was taxing enough, and especially so when she was having troubles holding onto her lunch. Every time she turned, rolled or dove, she would have to hold her breath through painful and debilitating fits of cramping and nausea. 

She would have told them all sooner, but she had been slightly distracted, and she wasn’t entirely sure Allura would understand why the green paladin needed to go lie down. Did Alteans even have the flu? Or nausea for that matter?

When she started retching in the cockpit of the green lion, she decided to call it a day. The green lion stopped abruptly, sensing her distress, and all the other paladins (excluding Shiro) groaned. 

Pidge put her head in her hands, too weak to unbuckle her seatbelt, and was sure she was going to vomit on her lap. She had already accepted her fate.

‘‘Pidge, are you okay?’’ Shiro asked quickly over the intercom. The other paladins seemed to catch on, and remained silent. 

Pidge waited to stop dry-heaving before replying. ‘‘Fine, I think. Just a little motion-sick.’’

‘It’s probably about time to call it a day,’’ Shiro agreed. ‘‘Can you make it back to the ship?’’

Pidge agreed, albeit a bit reluctantly. Moving at all didn’t seem like it was in her best interest, but she her lion followed the boys, and she had little choice but to sit back and let it. When they were safely stopped and the lions were boarded, Shiro entered the cockpit of the green lion, where Pidge was still sitting, nearly immobile. 

‘Pidge,’’ Shiro started seriously. ‘You know you can tell us when you’re sick, right?’’ 

Pidge’s stomach rolled with nausea and guilt. She hadn’t meant to inconvenience them like this. She whispered an apology and looked down at her lap, still buckled into her seat. Shiro knelt down in front of her and placed the back of his hand on her forehead, brushing away her hair.

“You’re burning up. How long have you felt like this?’’ Shiro’s eyebrows furrowed with worry. He continued to brush her hair away from her tearful brown eyes. 

“Since this morning,’’ Pidge breathed a shaky sigh, trying to undo her seatbelt. Seeing her struggle, Shiro gently pushed her hands away from the buckle and undid it for her. Pidge could have cried. The relief of pressure on her bloated stomach felt euphoric for a few seconds—until it got worse. Unrestrained, she doubled over in pain, surprising a worried Shiro. Pidge let out a small, high pitched groan, and began retching again.

Shiro sprung to action. He scooped the small, retching girl into his arms and carried her out of the green lion. Pidge forced herself to stop gagging, and buried her face in Shiro’s shirt. Her breath came in soft gasps, and tears started to spill from her brown eyes. The nausea was unending and overwhelming. She would so much rather just puke and get it over with, it would save her the trouble of shaking in front of a toilet for hours. 

Without realizing, Shiro had carried her to the commons area while she shook and cried in his arms. Shiro laid her down on the couch gently, placing two pillows behind her head. Pidge sat up almost immediately. Lying down, she felt the stomach acid rushing up her esophagus. It felt marginally better to sit in a ball. 

Shiro dragged a bucket to Pidge from the other side of the room. Once it was between her knees, she flopped forward over the bin. 

‘‘The other guys are getting a snack but I figured you weren’t up for that,’’ Shiro sat down on the couch on her left. The thought of food made Pidge’s stomach turn over. Her mouth filled with metallic saliva. Finally, she thought. Then she started to shake. She truly, truly hated throwing up. The thought of it was enough to push her into a panic attack. She was glad she had been distracted up until this point.

Pidge gagged, and Shiro raised his right arm to rub her back. She gave another gag, and her stomach finally, finally released. She opened her mouth against a current of foul-tasting liquid. She gave a loud heave and her stomach pushed up more torturous vomit. Shiro was glad her hair was fairly short, otherwise he would never have been able to save it from the steady stream of vomit leaving the paladin’s lips. 

After a small pause, and an even smaller noise, Shiro realized Pidge had started to cry. She gave a weak cough into the bucket, took a shuddering breath, and then fresh tears began pouring down her face again.

‘‘Hey, Katie, it’s okay,’’ Shiro hurriedly tried to shush her. He had never seen her this distressed. She just cried harder. Gingerly, Shiro replaced his hand on her forehead. The skin there was sweaty from exertion, and hotter than it had been in the lion. Perhaps without realizing it—or simply without caring, Pidge leaned into Shiro until she was once again crying into his chest. Shiro made no attempt to move her.


End file.
